The clock sounds out the new hour, but it falls on deaf ears. Time marches on despite this.
Tick, tock.
The person stays in their bed, unfeeling. Unmoving besides faint breathing. Their eyes, half lidded. They stay there.
Tick, tock.
Their bed is unmade. Their hair is slick to the touch, oily. They reek of days without a shower. And yet, they still sit there, never leaving. Trying not to feel as they stare at the wall.
Ding dong!
A new sound. They do not move. They barely react. They finally pull a blanket over their head, in hopes to muffle the sounds of the outside world. They close their eyes.
Ring ring.
Ring ring.
They open their eyes after however long. It’s their mom. They never answer. She’s probably concerned for them. Even though they feel like a waste of space. They stare off into space, ignoring their growling stomach.
Knock, knock.
Why check up on them? They’re not dead. Just depressed.
Tick, tock.
Time marches on. They don’t.
Knock, knock.
Why check up on them? They’re not dead. Just depressed.
Tick, tock.
Time marches on. They don’t.
No comments:
Post a Comment